I Remember December
by Phoenix Bradley
Summary: The sequel to Blue Horizons. This is for those of you who read it and wanted to know what happened to Smeagol and Hope when the ring came into play. Better summary inside.
1. Distance

I Remember December  
by, Smeagol's girl

(A/N: To be honest with y'all, it's pretty pathetic that I'm Smeagol's girl and yet I've only written (and completed) one Smeagol fic. So that's about to change! This is a sequal of sorts to Blue Horizons. Now before I get the groans and the eyerolls... please keep in mind that my writing has improved since my first story EVER so this should be an improvement over that. I will do my best to pull Hope-Anne out of Mary-Sue's ugly grip and turn her normal. But she can still play the guitar. I refuse to take away that feature.

Summary: Takes place about a month after Blue Horizons. Hope and Smeagol are still together but the truth of what's to come is haunting her.  
Especially as her friendship with Deagol begins to become stronger and she begins to realize how hard it'll hurt the day he dies. This is really a two part fic. The first part is how the events take their ugly course, and the second part jumps to after Smeagol/Gollum's death and how Hope-Anne may be the one thing left that can still save his soul. It's hard to explain, but you'll see what I'm talking about as it progresses. Rated T. I own nothing except for Hope-Anne.)

"Looking back at me I see that I never really got it right/ I never stopped to think of you/ I'm always wrapped up in things I cannot win/ You are the antidote that gets me by/ Something strong like a drug that gets me high/  
But what I really meant to say is I'm sorry for the way I am/ I never meant to be so cold... never meant to be/ But what I really meant to say/ Is I'm sorry for the way I am/ I never meant to be so cold... never meant to be"  
-'Cold,' by Crossfade (this song is on my myspace profile along with a Smeagolian background I created. Look me up by email).

A rush of adrenaline passed over Hope-Anne as she stared over the edge of the large tree branch and into the large plunge that lead to the river. From below, the drop hadn't looked too big at all, but now that she was standing there, she could have sworn the tree had grown about ten or twenty feet. Her heart was pumping, and for a minute she considered climbing back down and not taking the jump.

"Come on!" shouted a voice from below. "You can do it! Just jump!" She diverted her eyes from the water and looked to the shore at the hobbit watching her expectantly. His eyes sparkled slightly with eagerness as he watched her, but it brought her no comfort. Not this time.

"I can't, Smeagol," she called back down.

"Yes you can! It's fun! Trust me!" She closed her eyes trying to only hear his voice and not think about the drop. Frantically she tried to turn all her focus to his voice, but she realized she couldn't jump with her eyes closed.  
Opening them she sighed, knowing he'd never forgive her for it, and turned around, making the decent back down the tree. Smeagol frowned at her, but took hold of her waist to help her down.

"You could have done it," said Smeagol softly. "You know very well you could have."

"Can we forget it, please?" she said, her tone everything but friendly.  
"Forgive me if I haven't entirely become comfortable with the thought of falling and breaking a leg just yet." He smiled sadly and kissed her cheek.

"You wouldn't have fallen," he said softly. "Not before I caught you."

The remark was corny. She knew it. But just knowing he was trying to say the right thing was enough and she smiled at him. Prehaps that was why so many lovers allowed each other to get away with some of the most cheesiest pick-up lines she'd ever heard.

His arm draped over her shoulders, and she snaked her arm around his waist as they headed back for the village. One thing she was beginning to learn about these times was the lack of display of public affection these people seemed to show for each other. Even hold hands seemed to be reserved for the privacy of your own home... or hole. She and Smeagol would walk like they were outside of the village, but once they arrived they would give each other a respectable distance so not to cause a scene. More and more they found themselves wandering further and further away from the village in attempt to make the walks in each other's arms last longer.

Part of her wondered if she had not been his... if it had been someone else,  
would they have walked this closely as well, or was it her bad influence starting to come over him?

They had kept their relationship a secret from his grandmother, fearing what she would do if she found out, and if Deagol knew, neither of them had told him. Smeagol had explained to her that Deagol had a way of becoming jealous whenever Smeagol had something that Deagol couldn't and said they should keep it a secret until he too had found someone.

"It's a nice thought, but he'd have to be an idiot if he didn't know already"  
was Hope's reply. They had been more careful about their behaviour around each other in front of his grandmother than they had with Deagol which had lead to shameless flirting. There was no doubt in Hope's mind that Deagol already knew. Still, for Smeagol, she said nothing to Deagol.

When they were a few yards away from the village they reluctantly stepped away from each other and walked to his house, not so much as looking at each other. As they passed by, Hope couldn't help but notice how people glanced at her suggestively, having just seen her return with Smeagol from the woods... just the two of them. But she gave them no thought. She had done nothing wrong and that was all that mattered.  
----

(A/N: you know the drill. R&R, por favor! Cheers! Oh, and check out my blong on my myspace for the cool cover I made for this fic. Yeah... I have a lot of free time. Cheers again!)


	2. Just A Dream

(A/N: Okay, I only have a half hour to type because my dad actually put timers on the computer, so I'm gonna get as much done as I can before the timer runs out and the comp shuts off.)

Hope sat on the bed in her room, guitar in her lap as she strummed away at random chords, trying to come up with a melody put words to. After recovering from the painful reality that there would be no rock bands in this place she decided that the only way there would be good music is if she wrote some herself. The problem was... it was easier said than done. Her finger hit the wrong string too hard and groaned at the awful sound it made.

"Dammit!" she growled, and set the guitar down. She glanced out the window, trying to find something to distract her, and noticed how late it was. It was dark outside, and she had hardly realized the time had gone by at all. Better luck in the morning, she thought, and set the guitar down so it was leaning against the wall, and went to blow out the candle.

She was about a foot away from it when as strong smell got her attention. It was putrid and made her gag, taking a giant step back from the door. It reminded her of the time she had found a dead mouse in her room back at home (the mess had kept it hidden pretty well...). But this was stronger. If it was something dead, it was definitely something bigger than a mouse.  
Covering her nose she opened the door and stepped out into the hall. There was nothing there but the dim light of the fireplace in the common room.  
Tabby must still be up, she thought.

She wandered down to the common room, wondering if Tabby could smell it was well, but stopped when she saw there was no one there. She could still smell whatever it was that was causing such a stink, no matter how tightly she pinched her nose shut. Wandering through the room, she looked around, hardly aware of the person watching her in the shadows of the hall.

The smell was coming from behind the sofa. That was the only place it could have been coming from. She trudged over to it and was not but a few feet from it when she saw a pair of hobbit feet. "Smeagol?" she asked. There came no response and she hurried over, moving the chair out of the way to see who was laying there. The body was pale with dark circles around the eyes and mouth. There as bruising around the neck, and its eyes were wide opened and glazed over, staring at the ceiling but seeing nothing.

It did not move. It did not breathe.

"Deagol?" she cried. "Deagol!" She dropped next to him, shaking him,  
attempting to rouse him, even though she knew it was too late. "Deagol,  
what happened! Deagol!"

"It won't wake... no... never..." hissed a voice. Hope's skin crawled down her spine and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She knew that voice.

"What have you done?" she cried, turning around. What she found made her scream. Smeagol was standing at the other side of the room, the shadows lining his face. There were dark circles under his eyes as if he had not slept in years, he reaked, and his hands were covered in blood. One hand was gripped tightly into a fist, clutching onto something protectively.

"It's oursss... it's oursss!" he hissed, giving her a dangerous look. "It knows too much... yess, preciousss... jussst like him!" He pointed to Deagol's body.  
"We musssn't let it tell... no! Never! -Gollum!- -Gollum!-" He took a few steps towards her, and she was on her feet, running for the door.

"Don't you touch me!" she screamed. She forced the door open and stumbled outside, falling on her palms and knees, pine needles pricking and cutting her. She tried to stand but she couldn't. Her body suddenly felt like it weighed a ton, and she could barely move. Smeagol's loud breathing was coming closer, she could hear his footsteps. "No!" she screamed.  
"Somebody help!" Cold clammy hands grabbed her shoulders and forced her up to face him. Hope screamed, praying that someone would hear her.

Smeagol stared at her with dark eyes when suddenly his expression changed and he looked at her slightly confused. "Hope?" he asked. His voice had changed and Hope looked up at him. He shook her gently. "Hope? Wake up"  
----

Hope's eyes snapped open and she found herself on her knees on top of her bed, Smeagol's hands firmly on her shoulders with a worried look on his face. Tabby was standing in the doorway looking just as confused. It took Hope a moment of blinking and looking around frightened before she realized it was only a dream. Tears flooded her eyes and she flung herself into Smeagol's arms, burrying her head in his shoulder. For a moment, both of them forgot about the secret they were trying to keep from Tabby.

"Poor dear had a nightmare I'll warrant," said Tabby, pleasantly oblivious.  
"I'll go make her some tea. No doubt she has a headache from your shaking her, Smeagol."

She left and Smeagol kissed Hope's head lovingly. "It's all right," he whispered. "It's over." Hope said nothing. In her heart, she knew it wasn't over, but yet to come. But she couldn't tell him. No matter she did, she couldn't tell him. She just wished she could stop him. "Hope, you're shaking..." he whispered, holding her tighter. "What happened? What did you see?"

"Nothing," she answered. "Just a dream"  
-  
(A/N: Save a hobbit! R&R! You'll thank yourself later! Cheers!) 


	3. Down Time

Hope woke up the next morning to a completely different aroma. Freshly made eggs and bacon, and toast with homemade butter spread on it. It smelled so wonderful and she was overjoyed when she opened her eyes to find Smeagol serving it to her in bed.

"Thought I'd bring you something," he said kindly. "Make you feel better"  
She smiled at him, looked around to make sure Tabby was nowhere in sight,  
and kissed his cheek.

"Thankyou," she whispered. And sat up so he could place the tray in her lap.  
She scooted over and he took a seat next to her, placing his arm over her shoulders, massaging her shoulder with his hand.

"Tabby's gone out on an arrond. She won't be back for a few hours," he said when he saw her opening her mouth to object.

"What about after last night?" she asked. Smeagol shook his head.

"She didn't suspect a thing," he reassured her.

"Not after I practically threw myself in your arms?" He chuckled and shook his head.

"She just thought you were scared. She doesn't know." Hope shrugged, still having her doubts about that, but as long as she wasn't in the house then she had no problem snuggling up with him. "Oh," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "This is for you." He pulled out an envelope and handed it to her.  
Hope flipped it over looking for a name but only found her own written on it. Smeagol reached across her and snatched up a piece of bacon as she opened the envelope.

"Hey, get your own," she muttered, and pulled out the letter. Only it wasn't a letter at all. It was a drawing. The squiggly lines told her it had been done by a child, and she smiled at the stick figure that had been drawn with her name written on it indicating it was supposed to be her. At the bottom of the paper was the name 'Samara' written in capital letters with the 'r' written backwards. Hope smiled and handed it to Smeagol. "So I'll take it she's doing good?" she asked, shoveling some eggs into her mouth.

"She's wonderful," said Smeagol. "In fact, I saw her a few days ago with her new family. That's the most I've ever seen her smile." Smeagol reached over to grab another strip of bacon when Hope grabbed him by the wrist to stop him. He laughed, thinking she was only stopping him from stealing more,  
but noticed she was not smiling. She held up his hand and looked at, front and back. "Hope?"

Hope felt naucious. How could he not see it? There was blood all over his hand. She could see it dripping off him and onto the bed. His entire hand was coated in it.

"Hope?" he asked again and she blinked a few times. Whatever she had seen it was gone and the moment had passed. She released his wrist and looked down at the tray, seeming embarrassed. "What was that all about?"

Images of the dream were still going through her head. She felt his hand squeeze her shoulder to comfort her, but instead it made her shudder thinking the hand that squeezed her shoulder would one day squeeze Deagol's throat until he...

She shook her head and looked up at him, forcing a smile. "Nothing," she said, shaking her head.

"With you it's never nothing," he said, kissing her cheek.

"Hey, you're just jealous because the voices only talk to me," she muttered and took a bite out of her toast. He laughed and reached over, stealing more bacon with success this time. "And for the love of God, get your own!" He laughed with a mouthful of bacon and stood up.

"I have to go," he said softly.

"Where you going?" she asked, not looking up from her tray.

"I have... things I have to do. I'll be back soon." She looked at him suspiciously, but he smiled at her in the way she knew she couldn't argue with. He turned to leave but she cleared her throat.

"Smeagol!" she called and he turned. She tapped her cheek with her finger and he laughed, walking up to her and placing a small kiss on it.

"Now you remind me of my grandmother," he joked.

"As I should!" she said with a nod.

"Unfortunately that's the last thing I want to picture when I'm kissing you"  
Hope choked on an egg, sputtered a bit, then laughed. He kissed her lips then left her there to try and shake out the disturbing images he'd left her with.  
----

Deagol was placing his fishing pole into his boat when he saw Hope walk up, still wearing a pair of pajama pants and a black hooded sweatshirt. Hope was happy that there were no pajama pants there so to everyone they just looked like pants... only that was beginning to take the fun out of it. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail with a few strands hanging lose to cling where they may.

"Where's your beloved Smeagol?" he asked in a joking way. Hope smiled and shook her head.

"Beloved? Never heard of him. You'll have to introduce me sometime." He splashed some water at her and she jumped back, barely missing it.

"Don't play coy," he said with a grin. "But really, where is he?"

"I do not know," she answered with a shrug. "He said he had some stuff to do and then totally abandoned me back there to fend for myself." Deagol chuckled.

"So you're here to cling around me since you have no one to cling to?" Hope shrugged and nodded.

"Could I?"

Smiling he gestured to the boat. "Be my guest." She walked over and hopped into the boat and he pushed off after loading an extra pole into the boat.  
----

(A/N: I'm sorry! I know I said the chapters would be longer, but with this timer, I don't have the time to make them longer! So I promise to try and update every day... except for possibly next week. I'll be out of town. But bare with me. Cheers!) 


	4. My Everything

Hope sat with the fishing pole in her hand, leaning back to back with Deagol as he casted off. They were out in the middle of the lake, and the sun was beginning to beat down on both of them. Hope had rolled up her sleeves on her sweatshirt, but it had barely helped. Her head was what was heated the most. Sweat was forming on the back of her neck and she adjusted her ponytail, trying to tuck away the majority of the hair.

"I need a haircut," she groaned. Deagol kicked his feet up so they were resting on the edge of the boat.

"Why? Your hair's not very long."

"I just want to chop it all off," she muttered, reeling in her line.

"That'd be a site," chuckled Deagol.

"Believe it or not there was a time when I thought I'd look great being bald"  
she said, reaching for her hook to clean off the weeds that had collected on it. Behind her she heard Deagol snort and he glanced over his shoulder at her.

"You can't be serious!" he asked her.

"No, really I did," she said, picking up a new worm. "I wanted to shave my hair off and be bald like Daddy." She smirked at herself and hooked the worm. "Mom wouldn't let me."

"And a good thing too," said Deagol with a nod. "As if you weren't enough the talk of the town all ready." At this Hope turned around and looked at him.

"What?" she asked. Deagol paused, the look on his face reminding her of a deer in the headlights, and he turned around to face her.

"You don't know?" he asked her, searching her eyes for lies. Hope shook her head and set her pole down. "Ever since you showed up, the people have been curious about you. They want to know where you came from, why you dress so strangely, and why your hair is short if you're a girl."

"Then they're just curious," she said dismissively.

"Well... the thing is... once they start getting curious... that's when they start coming up with their own answers." Hope felt her stomach start to knot up.

"Like what?" Deagol looked as though he was uncomfortable with the topic,  
now knowing that she had been oblivious to this. But it was too late now, so he spoke up.

"Well... I might have heard this one fellow say you were... banished from your homeland." Hope knew part of her couldn't quite dismiss that as a lie.  
There was some truth to it. "And that's where the stories get nasty because now that they've decided you were banished, they want to know what happened to give you that punishment." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "And... they seem to have noticed how well you get along with... the men..." He raised his eyebrows suggestively and Hope shrank back, her jaw hanging in astonishment.

"They think I'm a whore?" she asked.

"No... they think you 'were' a whore, but not all of them." As if that helped any. Somehow the changing of words didn't lift her spirits at all.

"And you?" she demanded, looking up at him. "Do you think that?"

"No!" Deagol answered... but a little too quickly. "I mean... I don't know much about where you came from... but... I've never... I mean..." Hope couldn't believe him, and she sat back.

"So... everytime one of the men come up to me to say 'Good morning' or shake my hand... they're doing it because they think I'm going to..."

"No!" cried Deagol. "Never! Don't think that way!"

"Why would they do this?" she muttered, looking out at the lake.

"It's because they've got nothing better to do," said Deagol, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Ignore them. You've never let other people's opinions bother you before." Hope was silent for a moment, but then nodded. "But"  
started Deagol, carefully putting his words together. "Out of curiousity.  
why did you come here?"

Hope looked at him, trying to decide if he was asking because he thought she was possibly a whore or if he just wanted to know the truth. "I was kicked out of my house," she said softly. "But not for that reason."

"Why then?" he asked, leaning over on his side, intrigued

"Because," she answered. "Just because." Because I screwed up, was what she wanted to say, but knew that would leave more explaining to do. Deagol shrugged and they went back to fishing, trying not to bring up the topic again.  
----

Smeagol traveled down the road, hands jammed in his pockets and his mind wandering every which way. There were a million reasons why he shouldn't be here right now. But he had to see her. He had to make sure...

He didn't know why he was really doing this, but for reasons beyond him he went anyway until he found the small house along the edge of town. He inspected it up and down the trees were growing nicely around it, some large and full, probably standing there since the beginning of time, others were small and young, planted a few summers ago. There was a beautiful and flourishing flowerbed in front of the house, holding an array of colors,  
and the over all feeling around the house was pleasant.

The front door opened and Smeagol quickly hid from sight. Out bounded a little girl, her long black hair in two french braids, and a smile on her face.  
Smeagol couldn't help but smile when he saw her. Another person stepped out of the house and joined her. It was a woman, probably her new mother,  
picking a few flowers with her and placing them in her hair.

Smeagol smiled to himself. Samara was as well as she had said. She didn't look like the same shy girl he had known for a while. She was actually smiling, and playing with a mother who treated her right. Smeagol stood up and quietly walked away, knowing the pair were too busy to notice him.

When he was but a few houses away from his own he found a rather large group surrounded by one of the houses, filled with chattering hobbits, all of them seeming a mixture of eager and distressed about what was going on in the house the were gathered around. Smeagol couldn't really understand what they were talking about, but his answer soon came.

"They say she died in her sleep, poor thing!" said one voice.

"I'll warrant he poisoned her in her sleep," said another.

"Or perhaps she poisoned herself!" threw in another. He rolled his eyes. It was just like them to jump in with gossip and outrageous assumptions. He knew the family that lived there. It was his neighbor Tailor and Anna Goodwink. They had no children though they both wanted them badly. The front door opened and a doctor stepped out, shaking his head as Tailor Goodwink followed. He collapsed on the front step, holding his head in his hands, no doubt sobbing miserably, as others moved in to offer comfort.

"She's gone!" Smeagol heard him cry. "She was my world and now she's gone!"

Suddenly, something about his words struck a chord in Smeagol and his mind drifted to Hope. What would he do if she ever... He looked at the hobbit weeping on the stairs and could see himself in him. Hope had come to mean so much to him, and he had never thought that in the blink of an eye she could be gone. She had become his everything over the last few months.

He couldn't stay here. He'd offer his condolences later, but for now he had to find Hope. That was all he could think about. Turning, he hurried back to his house, wondering if she was still inside.

-  
A few hours had gone by and Hope and Deagol were about ready to give up when something grabbed a hold on Hope's line and pulled for all it was worth. Hope lurched forward a little, then pulled back, not really knowing what she was supposed to do now.

"Uh, Deagol?" she called. He turned and looked at her, then gave a yelp,  
spinning around fully so he could help her.

"Just carefully... pull it up!" Hope tugged a little and Deagol helped talk her through it. The fish gave another vicious pull, and Hope was nearly tugged out of the boat, screaching and laughing as she fought to stay in. The fish was not coming up without a fight. Hope tried to pull again, but the fish pulled even harder. Hope teetered forward, and before Deagol could reach out and grab her, she was pulled face first into the water with a scream.

Deagol broke out laughing, waiting for her to surface.

Smeagol came running towards the lake, having not found Hope at his house, and was about to call out to Deagol to ask if he had seen her when he saw something float up above the water, unmoving as if it were dead.  
Deagol scrambled about in the boat, panicing immediatly.

"Hope!" he shouted, and Smeagol felt his heart plunge into his stomach.  
Hope floated about for a moment, laying on her stomach and looking as though she had drowned, but a moment later her head snapped up and she spat water into Deagol's face, smiling mischieviously.

"Gotcha!" she laughed. Deagol splashed her, cursing at her, and helped her climb back into the boat.

"You scared me to death!" he cried, but smiled, still finding the humor in it.

Smeagol took a deep breath, still getting over it himself. Hard as he tried, he didn't see her little joke as funny at all. Deagol rowed back to shore and Smeagol decided to make himself known.

"There you two are!" he called, forcing a smile. "I was looking around for you!"

"Sorry," said Hope with a smile, water dripping off her face. "Should have left a note or something."

"Well, we'd better get you into some dry clothes," said Smeagol. Hope nodded and waved to Deagol as they left. Once they were inside his house,  
not caring that she was soaked, Smeagol pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek. Then he let go and she stepped back with a smile.

"What was that for?" she asked. He didn't answer her and left her to get dressed.  
---- 


	5. Stalker

(A/N: Sorry for the delay! Here's the next chappie! And again, I apologize that these can't be longer, but that stupid timer doesn't give me the time I need to get these as long as I want them to be. Maybe when I'm done I'll go back and merge chapters or something. I'll figure it out later. Until then, on we go!)

Hope walked alone along the edge of the woods, her hands rammed into the pockets of her jacket and her hood pulled up to make the breeze stop blowing her hair in her face. As she wandered around, she watched the sun sink down slowly beyond the horizon and hobbits scurried around, lighting candles in their houses and their fireplaces. She smiled at them, but felt something she hadn't for a while. Homesickness. True, she had been very upset when she had left and had convinced herself at one point that she never wanted to see her parents again, but time had passed since then, and she began to wonder how her parents were doing without her. She also wondered how long she would be able to go without them.

As she walked, a group of male hobbits sat around, talking and drinking bottles of ale. One of them looked up at her and noticed her, nudging his companions so they would notice her as well. Hope began to raise her hand to wave at them, but then remembered what Deagol had told her about them earlier, and hastily rammed her hand in her pocket and turned her face away,  
trying to ignore them. They weren't worth the time of day.

Soon if became almost too dark, and she knew she would have to head back to the house soon, but she still wanted to wander around and see what was left to be seen, even in the poor lighting. She hadn't gotten far though when she had a sneaking suspicion that she was being followed. She stopped,  
turning briefly to see who was there, but when she saw no one she felt nervous rather than relieved. Turning slowly, she continued to walk but soon heard footsteps on the soft grass. This time she jumped around, hoping to catch the person by surprise, but when she looked there was no one there.  
At least, no one she could see.

Adrenaline kicked in and her nervousness turned to fear. If it were a friend pulling a joke they would have made themselves known by now. And Deagol's words were still ringing in her ears. Why had she gone out alone at night? Glancing to the side she tried to think of the easiest way to cut across yards to get back to the house. Whoever it was, they were behind her so turning around and going back the way she came was no longer an option.  
Perhaps if she were to cut to the left and then run through the next two yards, then cut to the right again to try and throw him off...

She quickly devised a plan in her head, and started to walk again, trying not to seem as if she'd forgotten who ever it was that had been pursuing her. She took five steps, and then broke out into a run. There came a shout behind her, and the sounds of running footsteps followed. Running over her plan in her mind, she quickly made a sharp turn for the first yard. The footsteps followed, and she jumped over a bush, landing badly on her ankle and nearly falling. But she continued to run, though the pain made her doubt she would make it much farther.

She took another right turn, this time being a little more careful in her footwork, and worked her way, zig-zagging around in hopes of losing her stalker. Soon she could see the house coming closer. It wouldn't be long now. Running as fast as her swollen ankle would allow her, she charged through the gate and ran to the door, turning the knob as fast as she could.  
But the door was locked. Banging on it frantically, wondering why on earth Tabby wasn't at least home, she opened her mouth to scream for help, when the door opened, and she tumbled in, landing on top of whoever had opened it.

She lay still for a moment, then, scrambling to her knees, she reached for the door and pushed it shut, locking it and sinking to the floor to catch her breath. "Hope?" groaned a voice. Hope screamed in surprise, having completely forgotten about whoever it was she had knocked over, and spun around to the body on the floor. "Whoa!" he shouted in response to her scream and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Calm down, Hope! It's me!" She looked at him for a moment and blinked.

"Deagol?" she asked, still breathing heavily. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here," he said, and she looked around. In all her haste she had barralled in at the wrong house, nearly cracking his head open with the force she had hit him with. She closed her eyes and put her head in her hands.

"Oh my gosh... I'm so sorry," she breathed, her body still shaking. "I was being chased and I thought this was Smeagol's house and I nearly killed you and this is really embarassing..." Deagol cracked a grin.

"You didn't nearly kill me," he assured her, helping her to her feet. "And what was that about being chased?"

"I was walking," she explained, placing a hand on her chest. Her heart was still beating up a rucous. "And someone was following me around, so I ran,  
and they ran after me, and I guess I got a little... panicked."

"A little? I'll daresay I've never seen a horse run as fast!" he laughed. "I'll take you home." She thanked him and started to walk when her ankle refused to be ignored any longer.

"Ow! Dammit!" she grunted.

"What?" he asked, looking down at her feet.

"I fell and my ankle bent in a direction I'm almost positive it was not meant to go," she said, talking very rapidly.

"Well then here," he said, slinging her arm over his shoulders and he supported her with his. "Lean on me then." It took great restraint for Hope not to break out into the song 'Lean On Me', knowing she looked foolish enough all ready, but she managed to behave herself and they headed out the door.  
---- 


	6. Born To Rock!

(A/N: Thanks for the review! And incase you're interested I made a cover for this fic. It's on my blog on my myspace. Check it out.  
myspace(dot)com/smeagolsgirl and the blog name is the title of this fic. I also have ones for some of my other stories. Cheers! And on we go!)

"What on earth?" cried Tabby when she opened the door to find Hope-Anne and Deagol working their way up to the front door. "Where have you been,  
youg lady? Worried us sick, you did!"

"She went out for a walk and got a little scared," said Deagol. "Said she hurt her ankle." Hope offered a fake smile and hobbled over to the entrance.

"Oh! Well then come on in, by all means!" said Tabby, usuring her in.

"I have to be heading back," said Deagol. "I'll see you later, Hope!" She waved at him, and turned so Tabby could shut the door.

"Heavens, child! Are you cold? You're shaking like a leaf!" Hope hadn't realized it but she had not stopped shaking since she had bumped into Deagol.

"I'm fine," she said. "Just need to sit- ah!" Her ankle gave out and she nearly fell but Tabby grabbed a hold of her and helped her over to a chair in the kitchen.

"You sit right here while I find a wrap for your ankle." Hope nodded and watched as Tabby hurried off. Behind her, Smeagol stepped into the kitchen and placed a hand on her shoulder. Hope nearly jumped out of the chair, but he quickly stepped in front of her so she could see him, and she breathed in,  
calming herself down.

"You look awful," he said, tucking a tangled curl behind her ear. "What happened?"

"Something chased me," she said softly, looking to make sure Tabby wasn't coming. Smeagol's eyes widened with interest, and he pulled up a chair in front of her, sitting on it while pulling her sore ankle into his lap to rub her foot.

"Where?" he asked.

"Along the woods," she answered. "I was walking, and it got dark and when I turned to leave I heard someone coming, following me. But every time I looked behind me they must've hid cuz I never saw them. So I ran, and they ran, chasing me, and I crashed into Deagol's house, thinking it was yours."

"Did you ever get a look at who was following you?" he asked, his rubbing becoming a little harder.

"No," she said. "I told you they were hiding. Ow! Smeagol!" He had pressed too hard, and let go of her foot.

"Sorry!" he said. The whole conversation had made him nervous, and he'd unintentionally taken it out on her foot. They could hear footsteps approaching and he quickly shuffled her foot out of his lap and she scooted back a bit.

"So, anyway, I think the fish he got was close to two feet long!" she said,  
immediatly trying to make it look like they were talking about something else. "I mean, it was huge!"

"I can only imagine," he said, playing along.

"You two are the saddest bunch I've ever seen," said Tabby, walking in with a wrap in her hands. "You don't honestly expect me to believe that, do you"  
she asked. Hope and Smeagol exchanged looks. Had they been that transparent? "A two foot long fish?" she continued. "Sweetheart, it couldn't have been longer than a foot an a half."

Hope and Smeagol sighed with relief. "Oh," Hope muttered with a sigh.  
"Probly. Guess I saw wrong."

"You know, you two really shouldn't be alone together. One might think you two were courting each other." They laughed with her, though not for the same reason. "I know!" chuckled Tabby. "I'm sorry, but the thought of you two?" She laughed some more, but Smeagol and Hope looked at each other.  
"It's perposterous!" continued Tabby. She finished up with Hope's wrap, and stood up, still laughing. "Oh, do excuse me. I need a breather!" She left them in the kitchen and stepped outside to sit on the porch.

Smeagol and Hope stared at each other dumbfounded. "Perposterous?" she cried. And Smeagol snickered as she grinned. "I hardly can even say that word! Why is it so ridiculous?"

"Who knows?" he asked with a shrug.

"You know this is only going to get more awkward if she goes on like this.  
And how will she react when we tell her?"

"She won't," he said comfortingly. "As long as we don't tell her how long we've been together behind her back, we'll be fine." She smiled a little,  
doubting that was the real solution, but nodded as he kissed her cheek.

"Come on," she muttered. "You were scared to death for me and that's all you've got?"

He smiled, then leaned in, kissing her lips fully. Her hand reached up and tangled into his hair as she nestled up to him, and he pulled away, knowing Tabby was bound to be back soon. "Love you," she whispered while he was still an inch away from her face.

"Love you too," he answered, kissing her cheek.  
----

That night as Hope dressed in her room, she glanced out the window twice.  
Once to look at the full moon, admiring how large it looked for a change,  
and a second time because she saw something moving from the corner of her eye.

Her blood froze, and she stared, not moving for about five minutes, her heart pounding and threatening to break free of her chest. Then, hoping it was safe, she wandered to the window and looked out. A shadow darted behind the trees and out of sight, but for all she knew it could have been a rabbit or some other creature. Behind her, the bedroom door opened and she heard a yelp.

"Hope! I- Oh my! I'm so sorry!" Smeagol had opened the door to look in,  
but it didn't occur to her until after he had turned red and darted back out that she was wearing only her T-shirt and black underwear that read, "Born to Rock!" on the front with an electric guitar on her butt. She burst out laughing, unable to help it, and pulled on a pair of pajama pants, running over to the door to open it for a very red Smeagol. "I didn't realize you were getting dressed," he said softly, and she smiled.

"It's okay. It could have been worse. Knock next time, 'kay?" He nodded,  
the red starting to fade. Part of her wondered if he was still picturing her like that in his head. "What did you want?"

"I..." He was struggling to look at her. "I can't remember." She laughed,  
wrapping her arms around him in a hug and kissed his cheek. Then they broke apart and said goodnight. Whatever it was he had wanted to say, it would have to wait until morning. 


	7. Lost

Hope was walking along the edge of the Anduin, when she spotted Deagol's fishing boat floating alone in the middle of the river. She couldn't see him, but wondered if he was laying down in it, relaxing in the sun. "Deagol!" she called out to him. There came no response. "Deagol!" she called a little louder. There was a rustle in the bushes beside her and she jumped and turned around. "Hello?" she called. 

A large bird flew past her, its wings nearly swiping the side of her neck as it passed her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. The bird flew out a few feet in front of her and landed in the grass. A crow, she thought. Or a raven, she couldn't tell the difference. But it was pecking away at something on the ground. Cringing, she figured it was some dead animal, and moved in to see what it was.

A pale hand was at her feet, unmoving, lifeless. Attached to it was an equally pale arm that led up to the decaying body of...

Hope gasped. There was a dead hobbit laying there!

How long had he been here? How could no one notice he was missing? She looked around, hoping to see that someone was near, but she was alone. She wanted to get away from it. She wanted to run, but she couldn't tear her eyes from the sight. He was laying on his stomach, his face in the ground, and flies had already collected around him.

Knowing she had to know who this was, she lowered herself to her knees and reached for him. Part of her was afraid he would fall apart in her hands, but she overcame that fear, and gently shuffled him over so he was laying on his back. He was cold and clamy when she touched him, but when he rolled over and she saw his glazed eyes staring up at nothing, she couldn't hold back the scream.

Deagol.

There was bruising around his neck, and his skin had begun to peel to reveal a home for maggots that crawled about and made her want to be sick. She could feel herself spinning, growing dizzy and lightheaded. She was going to faint. Her nightmare was coming to life, and there was no one who could help her. She opened her mouth to scream again but no sound came out, no matter how hard she tried.

She looked at the body a final time and in one last effort she found her voice and screamed out for the heavens to hear.  
----

A door crashing open woke her up, and she found herself not in her room. She was... she blinked a few times. She was barefooted in the grass, a few yards away from the woods, and she could see the houselights coming on in many of the homes as people bustled about, trying to find out where the scream had come from. Hope looked around again and felt the blood drain from her face. She didn't know where she was! And what was worse, she had been sleep walking! But it had all been a dream... or she thought so at least. Her mind was so confused and panic was so very close to wracking her that when a pair of hands landed on her shoulders, she immediately spun around to fight whoever it was.

"Let go of me!" she shouted, fighting to get lose. Her eyes briefly glanced at the face. He had a dark look to him, a scar on his face, and very unruly hair. Even as he held her he looked almost angry with her, almost as if he wanted to hurt her. It wasn't a hobbit she recognized, and that made her panic even worse. She struggled violently to get free, and after stomping on the hobbit's foot, she was able to release herself, and she backed away from him. She turned to him, and suddenly thought of the one who had been chasing her not too long ago. It was him! Her breathing began to grow intense. "Who are you?" she screamed at him, her breathing growing harder. "What do you want from me! Why can't you just leave me alone!"

The hobbit stared at her completely confused, thinking she had merely lost her mind and was going insane in front of him. There came the sounds of confused voices, and Hope turned around to see half the village running up to her, trying to see what was the matter. When Hope saw how many of them there were, and that they all were looking at her, she couldn't breathe. Her heart was pounding too hard, tears flew down her face, and she felt as if she were going to faint.

Not knowing what else to do, she screamed again, and took off running trying to avoid the crowd. She ran and collided into another hobbit, sending them both crashing to the ground. She got to her knees quickly, but so did he as he grabbed her by the shoulders. Immediatly she struggled to get free and screamed loudly. "Hope-Anne!" shouted the voice.

At once she stopped. Her whole body was shaking, and tears were falling out of control. She couldn't control her breathing anymore, and felt dizzy. Looking at him before darkness could take her, she muttered the name of the one who held her. "Smeagol..." Her body went limp, and she went unconcious.

Looking up at the crowd confused, Smeagol stood up, holding Hope in his arms, and turned to the one who had tried to catch her earlier. "It was you!" he muttered. "You're the one who was chasing her."

"What are you talkin' about, boy?" demanded the hobbit. "I ain't done nothin' wrong! I heard her screamin' and came ter see what was bloody goin' on. She were sleep walkin'."

"You leave her alone!" shouted Smeagol. "I don't ever want to see you touch her again! Just stay away from her!" He turned and carried her away, ignoring the questions that were being shouted from the hobbits behind him. He looked down at Hope who seemed to be resting peacefully now, and kissed her forehead, not caring if anyone saw. Secret or no secret, he wanted them all to at least know that he was her guardian, and anyone who tried to hurt her would have to suffer him.

He carried her back home, and she slept the rest of the night without a fuss.  
----


	8. The Closet

Hope lay in bed till late in the afternoon the following day. She had no desire to step out and face the people she had no doubt freaked out not too long ago. And she especially did not want to see that ragged hobbit that had been stalking her either. If one good thing came out of that night it was this,  
people knew about him now. What was his problem anyway?

As she thought back on how strange she must've looked, she began to wonder if anyone would take her seriously about him? What if they hadn't?  
What if he was still out there looking for her? She pulled the blankets up closer to her, trying to get some comfort out of them. What she wouldn't give for that giant stuffed bear she had kept so close when she was younger.  
At least he would have understood.

Her room suddenly seemed too big, either that or she had shrunk. All she wanted was to get somewhere more enclosed and safe, somewhere where she could easily see all of her surroundings. She glanced to the side and spotted the closet. It wasn't too big, but just about the right size. She stood up from her bed, taking a pillow with her to cling on to, and stepped inside the closet, closing the door and relaxing in the small enclosed darkness she found comfort in.  
----

Deagol came by the house a few hours later while Tabby was gone, and found Smeagol sitting at the kitchen table, cutting up an apple. "Hello,  
Smea," he said softly, and Smeagol looked up and smiled.

"Hey," he responded, noticing that a lot of how Hope talked was starting to rub off on him. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard about last night," he answered, pulling out a chair and turning it so he was sitting in it backwards. Smeagol smiled a little. Just like Hope. "The whole village is talking about it. What happened?"

"She was sleep walking," said Smeagol. "That's all it was. She had a nightmare and was sleep walking. Why? What's the village saying?"

"Whatever story sounds more interesting," said Deagol. "Some of them say she's gone insane, others said that hobbit she ran in to was trying to... take advantage of her... and she went into that screaming fit."

"No," said Smeagol a little suddenly. "That's not what happened! Although they're probly not too far off about that hobbit."

"What was he doing to her?"

"I don't know. It's the same one who was chasing her the other night. He probly saw her sleep walking and figured it was a good chance for him to move in and do whatever it is he wants to do to her."

"Yes, well that's not the story he tells."

"Have they done anything with him?" asked Smeagol, looking up with interest.

"What could they do? He hasn't tried to hurt her, and half the town thinks she lost her mind."

"So he's still out there?"

"Yes, but he's keeping his distance from the village. I don't think you'll have much trouble from him again."

"I hope not," answered Smeagol.

"Where is Hope?" asked Deagol, looking around. "I wanted to see her."

"Oh, you can see her. But you'll have to get her out of that closet first"  
Deagol gave him a strange look and Smeagol pointed to the door to Hope's room.

"She's hiding in the closet?" he asked as he stood up. Smeagol nodded.  
"How long has she been in there?"

"Since this morning," he answered. "I tried to get her to come out, but she won't budge"  
----

Deagol opened the door to Hope's room and proceeded to the closet in the very back, nearly tripping over the mess all over the floor. For a girl she was far from tidy, he mused. He opened the closet door and found her there,  
huddled up in a corner. She had gotten dressed since she had gotten out of bed, but he realized that she was back in black again. Her eyes wandered up to him and she faked a tiny smile. "Hi, Deagol," she muttered.

He lowered himself down and sat next to her, putting his arm over her shoulders. Something shiny glinted in the light and he glanced down at the knife in her hands. "I stole a butcher knife from the kitchen when Smeagol wasn't looking," she said softly. "Just in case," she added quickly. "Do you think he'll mind?"

"I doubt it," said Deagol. "I think he's a little more preoccupied with getting the girl he loves out of here rather than his butcher knife." Hope glanced up at Deagol and opened her mouth to say something but he stopped her. "I've known about you and Smeagol since shortly after you two started courting each other. Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

"Well... can you not tell Smeagol you know?" she asked.

"Of course," he answered. She nodded and rested her head on his shoulder.  
"No one is going to hurt you, Hope," he said softly, squeezing her shoulder comfortingly.

"You're just trying to make me feel better so I'll come out of the closet," she muttered.

"Is it working?" asked Deagol. She sighed.

"A little... Could you say it again?"

He grinned and nodded. "No one is going to hurt you, Hope."

They sat there silently after that, Hope feeling safe with Deagol nearby, and about five minutes later the door opened and Smeagol stood there, staring at them strangely. "You too?" he asked Deagol.

"It just so happens to be sort of comfy in here," said Deagol.

Smeagol sat down on Hope's other side and put his arm around her too. The three of them sat together, until Hope's growling stomach refused to let her go hungry a moment longer. Then they all ate in the kitchen, never leaving her until she felt completely safe.

"I love you guys," she said, grabbing an apple from the counter.

"We love you Hope!" shouted Deagol dramatically and they all laughed.

"Group hug!" she cried and they all smushed in together, squeezing tightly and laughing. At least now Hope was reassured that they would never leave her, even if the whole town thought she was insane.  
----

(A/N: R&R my children! And don't forget to hug your slightly insane friend at least once a day! Cheers! Oh, and some of this was inspired by NCIS, I confess.) 


	9. An Axe in the Dark

(A/N: Sorry for the delay! Here's your new chappie!) 

Even though she had somewhat convinced herself that she could stay in that house forever -she had spent years as a couch potatoe after all- Hope quickly learned that being outside was something she had grown fond of, and eventually she couldn't resist any longer. But she refused to go alone, so she ventured out with Smeagol after dinner, and they walked along the edge of the forest together, talking about random stuff.

Hope pulled Smeagol's arm around her waist and hooked hers around his, smiling cheekily. "We're going to get caught," he said, looking around.

"Fine. We'll go by the river then," she said, and they turned, heading in through the trees. It was dark, but the fireflies were out, and she smiled as they zipped by, blinking in yellowgreen colors. When they were at a point where Smeagol was certain no one would see them, he drew her closer and kissed her cheek. Hope grinned, realizing he hadn't done that in a while. He kissed her cheek again, and her neck, and she stopped in midstep. She turned herself to face him and took his face in her hands. Smiling at her he leaned down and kissed her.

The thought that they were doing this behind a lot of people's backs, and that they were getting away with it sent rushes down her spine. She had always been one to enjoy the thrills of sneaking around after all. A few seconds later Smeagol pulled back and ran a hand through her hair.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. She grinned and nestled up closer to him.

"And you're oh so pretty," she muttered, unable to remain serious for one minute. He snickered and kissed her forehead, then her jawline, and finally her neck. There was something different in the way he kissed her though.  
Before, whenever they kissed it was always just goofing around or shameless flirting, but there was a more serious tone in the way he did it, as if there was some sort of unspoken phrase he could only get out through his kisses.

She kissed his mouth tenderly, wrapping her arms around his neck, trying to press herself as closely to him as possible, and let herself fade away in the moment.

The moment, unfortunately, was just that. A moment. And they were quickly called out of it when there came the loud snap of someone stepping on a branch.Smeagol stepped back from Hope, looking around curiously,  
and Hope felt a rush of adrenaline come with a spike of fear. Had they been spotted? She bit her lip and stepped behind Smeagol, secretly hoping that perhaps he was enough to hide her. "Who's there?" he called, taking Hope's hand to reassure her. There was no answer, but Hope had a burning feeling that they were not alone.

"Hurry," whispered Smeagol. "Go back to the house by another route, and I'll go back the way we came. They may not have seen us both, but if they see us together now it'll look suspicious."

"Okay, got it," said Hope, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, then walked ahead as Smeagol turned around and started to head back. It didn't occur to her until a few minutes later that perhaps being alone in the woods wasn't a very smart idea, despite what the town people would have thought.  
It was strating to get dark, and she quickly decided to only stay in the forest for a few more minutes, then start to head out.

Each step she took seemed to lead her to a much colder place, and soon she hugged herself to keep warm. She walked until it felt like it had been five minutes, then turned to head out of the woods. Only the minute she turned she heard another branch snap, and froze. Her eyes turned down to her feet, but there were no branches or sticks she could have stepped on. Her blood turned cold. She felt like she had not too long ago, and a brief image of the ragged hobbit flashed in her mind.

"No one is going to hurt you, Hope."

She rolled her eyes, thinking of Deagol's words. Where was he now when she needed him? Or better yet, where was Smeagol? How could he have even thought of leaving her alone in the woods? Why did that even sound like a good idea at the time? What were they thinking? An idiot could have seen this was a bad idea. Standing still she thought frantically, what should I do?  
----

Smeagol was almost out of the woods when the same thing that hit Hope hit him. What on earth were they doing? Turning around, not caring what the town thought if they were to find out, he took off after Hope. He had a burning feeling that something was wrong.  
----

Hope stood still until she heard another branch snap, and then, not knowing what else to do, she took of running, debating on whether or not she should scream. Behind her she heard the footfalls come in pursuit of her, and she quickly darted further into the forest, not entirely concious of where she was going.

Her foot snagged into a root and she flew forwards with a cry, crashing violently to the ground. She had cut her face on a rock, and her ankle was twisted again. But the pursuer was still behind her, and she could hear him coming closer. Pushing herself up, pine needles going into her palms, she darted away, running as best she could on her ankle.

She twisted around a tree, jumped over a small bush, and tried to zig-zag as best she could. If only she had run out of the woods, she thought. At least people would have seen the hobbit pursuing her and they would know she wasn't crazy. After a while she began to feel that she was losing him, but continued to zig-zag, not wanting to take any chances. But after a while she finally made a mistake. She tried to twist around another tree, but had twisted her body at too odd an angle, and fell again. This time she felt something snap, followed by a very sharp pain, and she glanced down at her ankle. It was already beginning to swell up, and she knew it was broken.

Not thinking, she tried to get up, but the minute she shifted her weight on that ankle, the pain was so intense she screamed and fell again, tears rolling down her face. It hurt so bad, and she knew whoever was after her was sure to get her now. Opening her mouth, hoping she wasn't too last in the forest for anyone to hear, she screamed out at the top of her lungs in terror, and awaited for her attacker to claim her.  
----

Smeagol heard the scream, and turned, realizing it was coming from deep inside the woods. His face drained of color. Something had happened to Hope. "Hope!" he called out, and ran to her, praying he wasn't too late.  
----

There came a crash and Hope turned her head in time to see, in the darkness, a silhouette coming right at her. It stopped to look at her, and then raised its arm, Hope noticing there was something in its hand, and he threw it at her. It landed beside her, missing her by inches, and she withheld a scream when she saw what it was. An axe. That was when it really sunk in that he was trying to kill her.

She looked up at her attacker, still unable to see his face and screamed, twisting herself over on her belly, trying to drag herself away. Behind her she could hear him drawing closer, but she continued to struggle, deciding she was not going down without a fight, broken ankle or no. What happened next was something that no one saw coming.

Out of the darkness in front of her another form came running to her, but this one she could see the face of clearly. He stopped in front of her and kneeled down to look her in the face. Hope screamed. It was the ragged hobbit who had tried to hurt her the night before. He stared at her as she screamed and sheilded her face, waiting for him to kill her. Only he did not kill her. It took her a minute before she finally looked up and realized he was walking past her and headed for the hobbit behind her.

Unwilling to put her ankle through the pain of rolling over on her back, the turned her upper body around to get as good of a look as she could. The ragged hobbit lunged at the one in the shadows and they fought each other, though Hope was still trying to understand that this hobbit she thought was trying to hurt her was now saving her skin. The shadowed one lunged past the ragged hobbit and reached for the axe beside Hope. She didn't even think to grab it before he could. When he had it, he raised it, trying to kill her still, but the ragged hobbit was on him like a bolt of lightning, and fought with him violently. Hope looked away, knowing that it was not going to end well, and waited until it died down.

When she craned her neck around again, the ragged hobbit was still standing, though clutching at his arm which had been injured badly, and looked over to Hope. Behind him the hobbit, still in shadows was running away, and Hope's heart sank. He was still alive. But fortunatley so was she. "I don't believe it," she said to the ragged hobbit.

He walked over to her and held out a hand to her. That was when she remembered her ankle. "I can't stand," she said, still feeling nervous around him. He grunted a little then reached down, scooping her up in his arms, and staggered off with her. Hope didn't know where he was taking her, but she didn't care. For the moment she felt safe with him, though she was still eager for answers.


	10. Matteus

(A/N: Sorry about the delay. I've had my hands full with school, drama club,  
a boyfriend, and trying to get a job. But it feels good to be back.) 

Smeagol in all his haste, did not watch where he was going and stumbled over something in the ground; most likely a tree root, he guessed. Cursing loudly as he fell, and rushed himself up on his feet, fast enough to make him dizzy, and he stopped for a moment, waiting for his vision to clear. He had no idea where to run now. He hadn't heard Hope's voice for fifteen minutes, and had gone beyond panicking.

"Hope?" he called out, listening carefully for some response. "Hope!" he shouted a little louder. No answer. Of course there wouldn't be, he thought. Even if she had gotten away she'd be no doubt be out of hearing range. She runs fast, he kept thinking to himself. She out ran him. But he shook his head and closed his eyes. How could he have left her alone?

Turning around to at least see what he had tripped on, he spotted a wooden handle protruding from the ground. Bending over he grabbed it and pulled it up, holding it up to better see it. The handle was not very long and at the end of it was an axe head. There was blood splattered on the sides of it that was still wet, and he dropped it taking a big step back. He felt sick to his stomach and looked around at the ground, searching for footprints for at least a sign of an escape from the fight.

There were footprints, but faint ones, and none of them looked like Hope's, at least not that he could tell. "Hope!" he shouted louder, his face draining of color as he thought more about the scream and the bloody axe. "Hope!" he practically screamed. "Answer me! Hope!" There came a loud crack of thunder and it began to rain. Smeagol's mind went frantic, trying to decide on what to do next.

He needed to get help, let people know. If it wasn't Hope's blood that still meant that it was someone's. He untied his neckerchief and unfolded it, wrapping it around the axe head so the blood wouldn't wash off in the rain, and then headed for the village. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes as he thought of what could have possibly happened, but he did his best to put the pictures out of his mind. 'I won't believe it,' he thought. 'Not until I see the body...'  
----

Hope was soaked from the rain by the time they reached the small house in the middle of the woods. Whoever this hobbit was, it was very clear that he didn't want to be a very close part of the village. He set her down in front of the fireplace and lit a fire quickly. It wasn't until he reached in front of her that she saw the blood on his arm. There was a nasty gash on it, probly from the axe, and she shuddered at the thought of how he could have lost his arm altogether.

He didn't say a word to her as he moved around, grabbing blankets for her to wrap up in. When he came to her with the pile he set them down beside her and looked at her wet jeans and shirt. "You need ter take those off," he finally said. "They need ter dry."

"Who are you?" she asked. Her curiousity about him had built up so much that she could hardly take it anymore.

"My name is Matteus," he answered. "But it'll be Matt ter you. I don't allow people ter call me by my full name unless I like them." Hope knew this was an insult, but ignored it.

"And why did you help me?"

"The village thinks I'm trying ter kill you. I had ter clear my name somehow." There was something dishonest in his answer, but again she ignored it. "Now get out of those wet clothes. You'll get sick in 'em."

"No," she answered. "Who was that who tried to kill me?"

"No more questions," he growled. "You need to change out of those clothes!"

"No!" she insisted. "Who was that?" Matteus growled and waved her off. "He tried to kill me, I think I deserve to know who he was!" she snapped. In truth she was now only looking for an excuse to not strip down in front of this hobbit she hadn't, up until almost an hour ago, had any trust in. Now the trust was fading again.

He walked off down the hall and she wanted to chase after him, but she knew trying to get up on her ankle would be the second or third biggest mistake she had made that day. So she waited impatiently moving closer to the fire as water beads fell from her hair and splattering on the wooden floor. It did not take long for him to return, and when he did he was grumbling to himself while carring two folded items. It wasn't until he handed them to her that she realized they were a pair of pants and a shirt. She looked at them, and then back up at him. "Well I'm not changing in front of you if that's what you want," she said stubbornly. Grumbling again, he got up and walked away.

Hope waited until his footsteps were at a distance far enough to satisfy her and she got dressed as quickly as she could, which was harder than expected when she remembered she couldn't stand. When she finished she waited for him to return and he came with bandaged to tend to her ankle. Her eyes never left the wound on his arm, which he either hadn't noticed or was ignoring, and didn't say a word as he set to work on her ankle, though she did fight bakc screams when she felt how badly it hurt.  
-  
(To be continued...)


	11. No Longer Safe

(A/N: As promised, an update! Cheers!) 

Deagol was sitting at his kitchen table, reading when Smeagol burst in on him. He glanced over and opened his mouth to say hello, but stopped when he saw the look on Smeagol's face. Smeagol marched up to him and threw the axe down so it landed in the table, and Deagol jumped up and away from his seat, part of him wondering if Smeagol had been trying to hit him.

"Smeagol!" he exclaimed. "What are you-"

"Hope's gone," Smeagol cut in. Deagol opened his mouth to say something, but shut it again, forgetting what he was going to say anyway. "We got separated in the woods... I heard her screaming, and I found that-" he gestured to the axe. "It's got blood on it."

Deagol, still slightly confused as to what was going on turned his head and looked over at the axe head. Sure enough there was blood on it. Not a lot, but it enough to be noticed. "Is it her blood?" asked Deagol, looking back at him.

"I don't know," said Smeagol, his voice sounding flustered. "I looked for her, but I couldn't find her." He paced around, then looked at Deagol. "I think... I think he got her."

"Matteus?" asked Deagol. "That strange hobbit that lives in the woods? What would he have against Hope?"

"He attacked her the other night," said Smeagol. "Why wouldn't he get her now?"

"That was him?" asked Deagol. "No one told me who had done it..."

"Yes, it was him," snapped Smeagol, now becoming impatient. "I can't find her. Not alone."

"I'll go with you," said Deagol. "Let's go now! We can't just leave her there..." He jumped up, grabbing a cloak. "Should we bring anyone else?"

"Who would believe us?" asked Smeagol. "And if they did who would help? We shouldn't even bother. Hurry!"

Deagol threw on the cloak and the two of them burst out into the rain.  
----

Hope wiped tears from her face, looking down at the bandages around her ankle. It felt like it was still throbbing, though the pain had died down. Behind her Matteus was finally taking care of himself, washing out the wound and covering it in bandages. He cursed a few times, and she looked over at the blood flowing all over his hands. She shuddered, then looked away, waiting for him to be done.

"Who was that hobbit?" she asked, her back still facing him. She didn't expect him to tell her, considering he had been fighting her for the last hour, but when he grunted her hope rose.

"His name is Richard Fetter," answered Matteus. "And he was trying ter kill you because he's still angry about what you've done with his daughter."

"His daughter?" asked Hope, trying to remember. "Samara?" she asked. "Samara's his daughter?"

"Yes," answered Matteus. "He's been after you for a few weeks now. You and yer little friend... Smeagol, or whatever his name was..."

"What!" cried Hope. "How did you know? And why were you following me?"

"I was not following you," he answered looking up at her. "I was following him." Hope turned herself to face him better, ready for an explanation.

"A few days before he was shunned, the bloake shows up at my doorstep all in a panic. Says someone in the village suspects him of hurting his daughter. Asks me to help him prove himself innocent."

"He was a friend of yours?" Hope interrupted.

"He was," answered Matteus with a nod. "But there was something not quite right about him. He was rather... twitchy if you catch my meaning. And you can always tell when someone's not bein' all together honesty with you." He shook his head and finished up with the bandage, taking a seat in a green chair beside the fireplace, his eyes not leaving the flames. "So I says to him I would keep an eye on things. Of course he thought I meant I would help him, but I really meant I would be keepin' a watchful eye on him. The next day I came to his house but he wasn't home, and neither was his wife or daughter. That's when I knew something was amiss. I tracked them down by that well and saw them dump her in, but I didn't stick around long enough to see you get thrown in as well." Hope shuddered at the memory. It had been so cold and dark down there...

"I went home and waited then. Sure enough the two of 'em came runnin' to my door, tellin' me they's in some sort of trouble. I told them, 'You bet you're in trouble' and I caught 'em both, tying their hands together and I took them to the matriarch to let her deal with them there. Sometimes I wish I'd had just killed 'em." Hope nodded, able to understand that. "Last week I walked by and saw you and that Smeagol chap by the lake, talking and laughing. Behing you two was a figure in the bushes, watching you closely, but never moving much ter avoid being caught. It didn't take long for me ter realize it was him. And that's when I knew he was up ter no good." He paused for a moment then gave her a wary look.

"He's been following you closely. He knows where you live, who your friends are, where you usually go during the day, he even knows about that secret love connection you have with that Smeagol. He knows almost everything." The color drained from Hope's face. "You're no longer safe here."

"Why haven't you stopped him?" she asked. "If you've seen him, why haven't you done anything?"

"I've tried, but he's gotten crafty. I almost had him the other night when you were sleep walking. If you hadn't woken up I probably would have had him."

"And today?"

"I heard you screaming and knew he was up ter something. I didn't get him, but I came close. He's been hurt bad. He won't be able ter do much for a while. He's probly got a funny gimp now," he smiled to himself, proud of that thought.

"There's something I still don't understand," muttered Hope. He looked at her, ready to answer he question. "Why are you helping me?"

"Because it never sat well with me what he did ter that child," he said with a sigh. "Never sat well at all. The way I see it, I wanna put that sorry bastard through as much pain as he put that little girl through."

Hope smiled a little and sat back. Then something dawned on her that hadn't for a while and she sat up again. "Oh no," she muttered. "Smeagol!" Matteus looked at her confused. "He had been with me and we got seperated... he may still be out there looking for me! I gotta find him!" She tried to get up, but suddenly remembered her ankle.

"I'll give you one of my ponies to ride," said Matteus, standing up and walking over to her to pick her up again. "Get yourself home quickly, and don't go wandering until I tell you personally that it's safe."

"But what about-"

"I'll find him," cut in Matteus. "Right now you need ter get home. You're not safe here either." He picked her up into his arms and took her out back where he sat her on the back of a pony. Hope rode off without asking another question, but it didn't occur to her until she was a good distance away that she didn't remember the way back.  
----


	12. The Forest

(A/N: I apologize for the nasty delays. Drama club eats up a lot more time than you'd think, but the play's over and I finally have down time, so I can start writing again. Cheers!) 

It was after dark, she had no lantern, and it was becoming quite chilly outside. Hope looked around, trying to remember which way lead home, but she couldn't see very well, let alone navigate at all. She shivered, and looked around again, doing eeny-meeny-miney-moe in her head to decide which direction to take. This would more than likely get her even more lost but it at least helped her make up her mind on which road to take.

Left, it ended on, and left she went. She kicked the pony's side and it began to trot in that direction. The bouncing made her very swollen ankle throb and she kicked the pony again with her good foot and the trotting turned to running, which was still bouncy but not nearly as bad. She squinted in the dark, desperately trying to find anything surrounding her that looked at least vaguely familiar. Unfortunately every tree looked pretty much the same, and there had been no outstanding features that had caught her attention before.

Her mind wandered to Smeagol. She wondered if he was still out there looking for her or if he had gone to the village for help. Then her mind slipped to the even more grim thought that perhaps he had run into Richard Fetter with his axe raised, ready to strike... She shook her head and tried not to think of that, but the mental image was there and refused to be shoved away, try as she may.

"Smeagol!" she called out without thinking. The thoughts had scared her to the core and the only thing she could do now was call out for help. "Smeagol, where are you? Smeagol!" Her heart was pounding and above her there was a crack of thunder. The fear that it was soon to rain crammed its way into her already worried mind, and she felt as though she were about to have a breakdown. "Smeagol!"

A drop of rain hit her nose and another landed on her forehead. Soon more and more fell until it flooded out and she was practically soaked. Now she was panicing. It was dark, cold, raining, and she couldn't have been any more lost if she tried. And to top it all off there was a mad man somewhere in the forest trying to kill her.

A twig snapped behind her, and she looked over her shoulder, her entire body shaking. Had that been a hobbit she had seen run into the shadows or was it just a branch blowing over? She turned her eyes forward slowly and made the pony start to run again, not wanting to stay and find out.

Another branch snapped, and this time she knew she was being followed. The pony continued to run, but came to a sudden halt in front of a tree that had fallen over, its large branched stretched upwards. The pony stood frozen, refusing to go forward. Hope kicked its side until she was afraid she'd bruise it, but the only movement the pony made was a few steps backwards. There came a third branch snap, this time she was unable to tell where it was from but imediatly assumed from behind.

She tried to make the pony at least back up so she could steer it in a different direction, but it refused to do even that now. Her heart was ready to break out of her chest, and she had to hide quickly. Knowing the landing would hurt, she carefully leaned to the side and allowed herself to tumble off, hands held in front of her to try and soften her landing. She felt her ankle move out of place again, and held in a scream of pain as she began to crawl. The clambered over the fallen tree, and found a cluster of bushes, just big enough to hide herself in.

She scrambled into them, and laid on her side, curled up into a ball, eyes watching fearfully, waiting for her predator to find her. At first it was quiet, save for the rain and the thunder. But then there came the footsteps. Twigs snapped loudly, and she curled up tighter, trying to calm herself. She held her breath, her body shaking profusely, and she tried not to breathe for fear of being heard. Soon she saw feet, two hobbit feet, and she began to shake even worse.

The feet stopped in front of the bush, and she knew she had been found, she just knew it. Soon he'd be reaching in and grabbing her by the hair and drag her away to gut her like a fish. Tears rolled down her face as she waited for it, but to her astonishment the feet turned and took a few steps in the other direction. They stopped again, and this time a new pair of feet came into view.

"If that was her on the pony then she couldn't have gotten far," said the first hobbit. She couldn't see either of them, and the rain made it harder to determine their voices.

"She's probably hiding if she heard us. Start looking around, and call her name."

Her heart lifted. Smeagol and Deagol! She began to shed tears of joy and began to crawl out when one of them made a sudden noise of surprise and she froze wondering what was happening.

"Stop right there!" shouted Deagol. Hope began to tremble again. Had Richard really found them already? "Where is she? What have you done with her?" There was no answer.

"I know you caught her, now tell us where she is!" shouted Smeagol angrily. Hope wanted to shout out that shew as in the bushes and just fine, but thought better of it. "Matteus!" he shouted in a warning tone. A lightbulb went off in Hope's mind and she yelped loud enough to be heard. "Don't hurt him!" she shouted and she heard them all start. Her ankle was too soar by this point and she reached out her hand to where it could be seen. She felt Deagol grab a hold of it and he pulled her out gently, then attempted to help her to her feet when Matteus shouted, "She's got a bloody broken ankle!"

"Don't talk!" shouted Smeagol, still holding the axe in his hands, ready to strike.

"No!" shouted Hope, who was still on the ground but propped herself up with her hands. "He's not the one you want! He helped me!" Smeagol paused and glanced down at her.

"What?" he asked, trying to see if he had heard right.

"I just came so see if you found her," said Matteus, and turned to leave.

"Don't you leave!" shouted Smeagol. Matteus ignored him and left anyway. Smeagol made as if to chase him, but Deagol stopped him.

"Smeag, she's very cold," he said, feeling Hope's arm. "We need to get her by a fire or she'll get sick."

Smeagol looked at her and all the emotion came back. She was there, she was alive, and she was safe. That's all that needed to matter right now. He reached down and picked her up into his arms.

"Don't worry Hope," said Deagol softly. "Smeag's grandma will fix you up. You'll be alright." She was too cold to answer now. She burried her head in Smeagol's chest, and relished whatever warmth she could get from him until they were back at his house and she was in front of a fire.  
----


	13. Three's a Crowd

Despite their attempt to hurry, Hope was indeed sick by the time they got there. She sneezed and shivered a lot, and once they were safe inside she changed into dry clothes and pulled a blanket around herself as she sat by the fire. She recounted her story about her attack from Richard and how Matteus had saved her. Then she explained to them the story and waited to see what they would say. At first they said nothing and part of her became afraid that they didn't believe her. Actually, to tell the truth Deagol looked more like he was just absorbing it in, but there was a hint of denial in Smeagol's face. 

Before anyone could say anything, the front door burst open, nearly sending the three of them through the roof -Hope giving a cry as her ankle was agitated again-, and in tramped Tabby, soaked to the bone and shivering. "Smeagol, why is the whole town a buzz about you and Deagol going out in the rain on some foolish- oh, Hope dear! You're drenched!" Hope sneezed in response, and Tabby forgot whatever it was she was going to say before and hustled into the kitchen. Smeagol and Deagol glanced at each other, slightly annoyed at the fact that she hadn't noticed they were just as wet, but said nothing. Tabby came back in a huff, carrying a small bottle and forced it down Hope's throat. It burned all the way down and cleared out her sinuses,  
and left poor Hope coughing and sputtering.

Her face of disgust made both Smeagol and Deagol laugh, both of them knowing how nasty the stuff was. "What was that?!" she cried once she had maintained control of herself.

"Cold medicine," said Tabby. "Could help you from catching a fever." Hope coughed one last time and thought of how the 21st century cough syrup didn't even hold a glimmer to how nasty that had been. She probably wouldn't complain so much now if she ever had it again. Tabby felt her forehead and frowned.

"You're absolutely freezing! I'll fetch you another blanket..." She scurried off and Hope sighed, pulling the one she already had tighter around herself. Once Tabby was back, Smeagol pointed out Hope's ankle and Tabby frowned and shook her head. "Now that I cannot fix," she sighed. "I'll have to send for the doctor. Will you three be all right alone?"

"Yes," they answered together.

"Very well then. Deagol, I'll let your parents know you're here... they're probably worried. Whatever you do, don't move her, you understand me?"

"Yes," they said together again. She left and Hope looked around at Smeagol and Deagol.

"Can one of you sit behind me?" she asked. Smeagol got up and sat down behind her. "Turn aroun," she said, and he gave her a funny glance, but obeyed. Once his back was facing hers she leaned back and rested her back against his. "My back's killing me and I needed something to lean against"  
she said softly, and Deagol chuckled.

"Oh, and I thought you just wanted to be close to me," Smeagol muttered sarcastically. She snickered and shrugged.

"Sorry. You're only good for a back rest."

"So what happens when I move?" he asked, pretending to stand and she squealed and grabbed on to him.

"No!" He laughed and lowered himself down again. "I was only joking"  
----

Hope had kept quiet before when Matteus had set her ankle the first time, but now she let it all out, screaming bloody murder as the doctor handled it. Part of the screaming was from the fear of remembering how badly it would hurt, the rest was from when the actual pain set in. Smeagol held her hand the entire time and wiped away her tears as they fell.

When it was done and wrapped up she felt like shew as five again, screaming so much at pain. But Smeagol still held her hand as if he understood so she didn't think much about it. Once her ankle was done with, she told Tabby what had happened in the forest, and Tabby set off at once,  
ready to handle it and start a search to take care of him.

Smeagol carried Hope to her room after having been told to not let her put any weight on her ankle, and she fell asleep in his arms. Strange, he thought as he saw how tightly she clung to him. It wasn't like her to be afraid of the dark.  
----

The bedroom door opened and Smeagol slitted his eyes open... then blinked a few times. How long had he been asleep? Deagol was standing there, and smiling. "Deag?" groaned Smeagol. Hope moaned beside him and shifted but did not wake. "What are you doing?" he whispered.

"They caught him," he whispered back. "I thought you might like to know."

"Already?" Smeagol asked, eyes wide and stunned.

"Apparently he was on his way to the village again and after..." he paused and looked at Hope's sleeping form, and then looked back at Smeagol. Smeagol nodded in understanding. "I wouldn't tell her if I were you," he added quickly. "That he was after her I mean."

"I won't," said Smeagol, stroking Hope's shoulder absentmindedly. This time she did wake, and blinked a few times and looked up at Deagol in confusion.

"Whazgoingon?" she moaned in one string, yawning at the end.

"Richard's been caught. He's in a prison now," whispered Smeagol. She smiled, too tired to look as happy as she felt... or to register how happy she should be for that matter. Smeagol kissed her cheek and she stole an unsure glance at Deagol. From the shadows it was hard to see his face... but it was almost as though it had darkened.

"Is Tabby back yet?" asked Smeagol.

"No," answered Deagol. "She's still got some things to sort out. She may be out all night with this." He walked over to the bed and Hope signalled him to climb in too. The snickered as they all got under the covers, Hope sandwiched inbetween, and eventually they all dozed off like that. When Tabby did come back and opened the door to check on them, she found Hope had managed to flip herself over so her head was poking out at the over end while her feet were on the pillow -she was on her belly-, Deagol slept partially leaning against the wall, and Smeagol was on his belly, his right arm and leg hanging over the edge.

Tabby restrained a laugh at the sight and left them like that, knowing it wouldn't harm anything.  
-  
----


	14. While My Love Was Sleeping

Despite their restful slumber, Smeagol and Deagol were both awoken from a rather loud 'WAAAH-CHOO!!!' from Hope, which caused Deagol to spring up, nearly kicking her in the face, and Smeagol to topple out of the bed, bonking his head roughly on the floor. 

Hope sniffled and looked at the two of them. "Sorry," she moaned, and slowly worked her way up into a sitting position. "Where'd Smeagol go?"

"Down here," he groaned, poking his head up. Deagol made a face and Hope gasped.

"Your nose is bleeding!" she squeaked, her voice giving out from her soar throat, and she sneezed again, flinging her head forward, her hair flying into her face. Smeagol scrambled up to his feet and hurried out to grab a cloth for his nose.

"You don't look very well at all, Hope," muttered Deagol. "You must've gotten a cold."

"Really?" her voice cracked. "What tipped you off, Sherlock?" She coughed roughly and sniffed again. "Bloody nasty medicine didn't help at all!" She sneezed a third time and made as if to climb off the bed, but Deagol stopped her.

"Oh no you don't!" he scolded. "Your ankle, remember?"

She groaned, secretly wishing it had only been a bad dream, but when she pulled the blankets off to look at it, it was wrapped up just like she remembered, and she could even feel it begin to throb again. "But I don't wanna stay in bed all day!" The irony of it was half the time she'd give anything to stay in bed all day, and now that she had to she wanted to get out.

"Here," said Deagol, standing in front of her, and turning so his back was facing her. She hooked her arms around his neck and he lifted her up, sort of like a piggy back ride, and made his way to the door.  
----

Smeagol took one look at the two of them as they entered the kitchen and began to laugh. "Wouldn't stay in bed, eh?"

"Yeah right," said Hope, and she pointed to the table. "Chair!" Deagol moved over and lowered her down so she was sitting in it. Smeagol poured her a cup of tea and gave her one of Tabby's blueberry muffins, which she practically inhaled. "Could someone grab me my hairbrush?" she asked. "It's on my dresser... I think..."

"I'll get it," said Smeagol, standing up to leave.

"And a scrunchie too!" she called out as he passed her. He stopped and looked down at her with a small smile. She looked at him funny and offered a half grin. "What?"

"Just glad you're..." he stopped and shook his head. "Nevermind," he muttered and kissed her on the cheek. Part of her felt bad because Deagol was being completely forgotten about, but the other part had been wanting him to kiss her so she let him do it hoping that Deagol would understand. If he didn't he didn't say anything.

When he left she glanced up at Deagol who frowned, and pretended to look at the clock. "I really... uh... I need to leave," he muttered, heading for the door.

"Oh," she muttered. "Okay. Bye!" she called back.

"Feel better," he muttered, waving to her and walked out. She couldn't help but notice the frown was still plastered on his face. She sighed and sunk back in the chair, wishing now she hadn't let Smeagol kiss her if it made Deagol that uncomfortable.  
----

Deagol glanced back at the house and shook his head. "Look but don't touch," he muttered. "She's Smeagol's."

He knew he had to forget about her or else there would be trouble, but his mind drifted to the previous night, before she had scrambled over so her head was between their feet there had been a moment, just a moment, when she and sighed in her sleep and rolled over, closer to him, her head resting on his chest and her hand on his shoulder. He knew he should have pushed her away, but he couldn't. He'd even come close to putting his own arms around her but she'd readjusted herself away from him before he could, and he knew now it was a good thing she had. To think what Smeagol would have done if he'd woken up and found his love in the arms of his best friend!

He shook his head and knew now he had to stop. He felt horrible for letting her snuggle up to him like that, and knew that he had to either stop thinking about her like that or stay away from her. Anything he needed to do to keep his friendship with Smeagol.  
----

"Where'd Deagol go?" asked Smeagol as he walked back in, handing her the hairbrush and scrunchie.

"He had to go home. His parents were probably worried."

"But Tabby said she'd told them where he was," he muttered.

"Oh. Maybe he forgot?" They shrugged and he kissed her cheek.

"Smea," she muttered.

"What?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her neck and kissing her cheek.

She paused, not sure of how to ask what she needed to but decided to be direct. "Please don't kiss me in front of Deagol again." He looked up at her in surprise and she offered him a small smile. "It's a little awkward, okay?"

"Why would it be awkward around Deagol?" he asked.

"Not just him," she muttered. "I guess around anyone it's awkward. Next time just the two of us, okay?" He smiled and nodded.

"All right," he whispered and kissed her lips. "And I am glad you're alive. I was afraid that man had done something to you." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. He wrapped his arms tighter around her and kissed her neck. "At least he's locked away now." She nodded into his shoulder and clung to him tighter. He didn't really understand why there was still fear in her, but it was there so he sat there, holding on to her for as long as he needed to. Until she was all right.  
----


	15. A Small Crime

Weeks went by and Deagol could not shake off the feeling. He had tried, at first, to just treat Hope as he always had. Like a friend. But the more he watched the two of them together, and the more he watched Smeagol draw his arm around her, or even steal a kiss, it felt like a part of him was dying. So he did the only thing he could think to do. He avoided Hope like the plague. 

He avoided being out when they would be, he never walked by Smeagol's home, and he stayed away from the river when he knew they would be there. One night, when he was passing by to a neighbor's house, Smeagol and Hope spotted him and hurried up to him.

"Where have you been?" Smeagol asked him, practically having to grab on to poor Deagol's shoulders to keep him from leaving. "We haven't seen you around in weeks."

"Oh," said Deagol, slightly surprised, trying not to look at Hope who had her arm lovingly entwined with Smeagol's. "I've... I've been busy."

"We really need to hang out again," said Hope.

"Perhaps," said Deagol and he tore away, muttering a soft, "Excuse me," as he brushed past Smeagol.

"Now what on earth was that all about?" he heard Smeagol ask Hope, and sighed. He could never tell them the truth, but he hated lying to them just as much.

A week or so later, while returning home from fishing, he bumped into Hope who was buying fruit from a local vender. "Deagol!" she called when she spotted him and ran up to hug him.

"Ah!" he said, taking a step away from her. "Sorry," he muttered when she gave him a puzzled look, and pointed to his fishing pole. "Don't want to put a hook in you."

"Oh," she said, glancing at the hook and shrugged. "What have you been up to? I haven't seen you in a while!" The moon was sparkling in her eyes, her hair was down for a change and slightly curly, and she was wearing that baby-blue shirt that clung to her curves just right...

"I have to go," he said quickly and hurried off.

She watched him leave, and called out softly, "I miss you"  
----

Deagol positioned his boat just right on the shore, ready to push it out when he heard the footsteps coming. "Deagol?" a voice called and the hairs on his neck stood on end. "Deagol are you here?" He could always not answer her. It would be the right thing to do. She'd leave and go back to her lover... the only hobbit who had the right to be in love with her.

Unfortunately mother nature was unwilling to let him go through with this plan, and a bee, coming from almost nowhere it seemed, buzzed by his face, causing him to jump and fall face first into the boat, his legs sticking out over the edge. The sight was so comical even he had to laugh at himself.

"Deagol!" laughed Hope as she scurried over.

"Hullo," he chuckled and scrambled to his feet. "Smeagol's not with you"  
he asked, looking around.

"No," she answered. "We went to a party last night and he was exhausted so Tabby let him sleep in."

"But not you?"

"I've never been able to sleep in voluntarily. It's a curse," she muttered with a shrug. "So, can I tag along with you?"

"Of course," he answered. She climbed into the boat and he pushed off, jumping in behind her. As he positioned the boat out into the middle of the river, he couldn't help but looked at her. Her guard was down, the mask was off, and for the first time in a long while there was that look of sadness lightly etched across her features. She looked exhausted, like she hadn't been sleeping well lately.

"Wow," she muttered, and he snapped out of thought.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just... we really haven't done this in a long time."

"Yeah, I know," he muttered. "Things just came up and I was busy."

"I know, I understand," she said, forcing a smile. "It's just not been the same without you, you know?" He nodded and she looked back out at the water. "Can you keep a secret?"

He nodded, but realizing she couldn't see him from the angle she was staring at he voiced his answer.

"I've been having nightmares the last few weeks."

"What sort?" he asked.

"About someone..."

"Richard?"

"Yeah," but only she knew she was lying. In all truth the dreams of Smeagol throttling Deagol had played in her mind more frequently. She had learned not to scream when she awoke so Smeagol and Tabby didn't know. But they were getting to the point where she didn't want to sleep at night because she knew it was coming.

"I'm sure they'll go away soon, Hope. I mean, he is behind bars."

"I know. They should. I know he can't hurt me. That doesn't stop the nightmare though for some reason." She drew her knees up and under her chin and closed her eyes. "I haven't been sleeping much lately, Deagol. That the real reason why I didn't sleep in. They just bother me so much." There were tears behind her eyelids, he knew it. She tilted her head to the side so the side of her face was resting against her knees and she was facing him. Her eyes stayed closed but he could see something glittering from beneath her eyelashes.

"I'm sorry," her voice cracked.

"For what?" he asked.

"Whatever I did to make you so upset with me," she answered. He looked at her in confusion and her eyes opened, a tear falling from one and trailing across the bridge of her nose. "I'm not stupid, Deagol. I know you've been avoiding me. And whatever it was I did, I'm sorry. I just want us to be friends again. I've got enough crap going on, I don't need you being upset with me piled on with it."

Without thinking he reached out and grabbed her shoulder. "I'm not upset with you!" he exclaimed. "You've never done anything wrong, Hope! Never." She sniffled and a tear fell from her face.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I'm just so tired... but I can't sleep."

And she broke down. He drew her up into his arms and she burried her face into his shoulder, her arms wrapped around him. She clung to him because she knew one day Smeagol would kill him and there was nothing she could do to stop him without ruining the chain of events the led to the destruction of the ring. Deagol clung on to Hope because he loved her, be he could never tell her that.

His shoulder was so warm, she thought briefly. And her arms were strong around her. Deagol noticed she was wearing some sweet scent, and her hair was so soft. If he held on a moment longer he might go mad.

Hope pulled away, hastily brushing the tears from her face and forcing herself back together. "Sorry," she said quickly. "Here I haven't seen you in a while and the first time I do I go into a meltdown."

"No, it's all right," he muttered.

"You have a lot of patience," she sighed, forcing a smile. Deagol secretly thought 'You have no idea...'.

They sat there in silence for a while, the gently rocking of the river relaxing both of them, and finally he rowed them back to the shore. When she stepped out she pulled a scrunchie off her wrist and tied her hair up. "Ugh," she groaned. "My eyes are all puffy now. I need to put some makeup on them..."

"You look fine," said Deagol. She snorted.

"You're kind."

"I don't know why you put that stuff on. I saw you that one day at Smeagol's house when you hadn't even put any on your face and you still looked so beautiful..." He froze. Maybe she hadn't heard him, he hoped.

"What did you just say?" she asked. Deagol frowned. Every male on the face of the planet knew that was code for 'I understood you perfectly and now you're in BIG trouble...'

"I didn't say anything," he lied, beginning to panic. What would she do now? Would she tell Smeagol?

"You just said I'm beautiful," she said in a confrontational tone. "You never say that."

He sighed. It was out. She was smart enough to figure it out.

"Deagol...?" she questioned, stepping closer to him, trying to read his eyes.

"I lied," he said. Her eyes popped open and he had to cut in before she could say anything. "Not about you being beautiful, Hope. You're gorgeous! I lied about why I haven't been around. It is you! It's all because of you! You and... and him!" Her jaw dropped. "You two love each other. You're perfect for each other, and he's even told me he may ask you to mary him someday,  
and I already know that when he does you'll say yes because you love him that much!"

Hope didn't know what to say, so Deagol kept on going. "You two are made for each other... And it hurts..." His voice cracked and she gasped. "It hurts because... I mean you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. You're sweet, you're funny, and you've almost always got a bright spirit with you. But I can't even look at you because everytime I do... I keep thinking about what it would be like to be Smeagol and hold you in my arms."

He stopped and looked away from her. "I don't know why this is happening..." his voice cracked again. "And I'm sorry. I wish you and I could stay the way we've always been, I really do... but I can't. And I don't want to hurt Smeagol. So I can't be with you two anymore." He ran his hand over his face. "Being in love with you doesn't hurt nearly as much as watching you be in love with someone else."

Hope was shaking. Tears were falling down her face. She was hugging herself tightly and looked at the ground. "Deagol..." she whispered weakly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered and began to walk away.

"Deagol, don't go," she called, her voice wracked with sobs. "Please don't go."

He stopped for a moment... but started to walk again. "Deagol!" she called,  
and ran to him. She tripped on a root and fell on her face, scraping her knees. He didn't notice, or if he did he ignored her.

She scrambled to her feet and ran to him grabbing onto his arm. "Deagol,  
stop!"

He stopped and looked at her. There were tears in his eyes, and this only made her's come more rapidly. "You... you can't... you can't just..." She didn't know what she was trying to say. But she never got a word in. Before she could stop him, his arm was around her waist and he pulled her to him, capturing her lips with his. At first her hands slid to his chest to push him away... but she caved, and her hands slid up and behind his shoulders, pressing him as close to her as was humanly possible. Every fiber of her being told her this was wrong... but she didn't care.

She forced his lips apart and kissed him deeply, probably deeper than she had ever kissed Smeagol.

Finally her guilt kicked in and she pulled her lips away, but did not remove her arms from him. "I'm sorry," he whispered. She moved her face up to kiss him again but couldn't do it. Instead she stepped back altogether and whispered, "Don't tell..."

"I won't," Deagol answered. "You've better go." She didn't need to be told twice and before she knew it she ran off, leaving Deagol to stand there watching, her taste still on his lips.


End file.
